The day was dark, and the room was all dim and cold, with its stiff, ugly furniture and its bare, tiled floor.
The corners were shadowy, and her eyes searched in them uneasily, and she would not turn her back upon them again and look out of the windows.
Then the door opened noiselessly, and Giuditta Astarita entered, in her loose black silk gown, with her little bunch of charms against the evil eye, hanging by a chain from a button hole.
The china blue eyes looked steadily at Matilde, out of the unhealthy face, but the woman gave no sign to show that she knew who her visitor was.

Her hoarse voice pronounced the usual words: "You wish to consult me ?" "You wrote to me.

I am the Countess Macomer," answered Matilde, lifting her veil, which was a thick one.
The expression in the woman's eyes did not change, but she still looked steadily at Matilde for three or four seconds.
"Yes," she said.

"I thought so.

I am glad that you have come, for I have suffered much on your account." She looked as though she were suffering, Matilde thought.